Se connecter
“Lavina, stop being so selfish! We all know Stephanie is ill and has only a few years left to live. She needs more protection than you do.”
I was strapped to a wooden chair by my own sister and the man I called my husband. Alex was supposed to protect me from the blizzard, but instead, he was the same person who had tied me up and left me pregnant, bleeding, and alone to die. *** “Dress up. You're coming with me to the mall. The weather is getting bad, and we need to get thick clothes, food, and medicine for the coming blizzard. We need enough supplies before it strikes,” Alex said. My eyes widened because I knew he had never taken me anywhere in our three years of marriage. It was a hidden marriage, though, yet I had sacrificed every single day to make him happy. “I... I'm not feeling well, Alex. Can you go alone and get them? Also, get thick sweaters for me,” I replied, holding my abdomen. For weeks, I had complained about cramps and begged Alex to take me to the hospital, yet he refused. He said it would cost him money and that he couldn't spend money on a wife who wasn't helpful to him. The cramps had started when I began taking that medicine three years ago. Frank, our family doctor, always confirmed that I wasn't sick and most times called it “food poisoning.” I watched Stephanie, my supposed sister, rush through the door with a pitiful expression. “Alex, please, don't you see she's unwell? We can go together if you don't mind.” There it was again, her pretending to be the kind, sweet sister while making me look like the devil. “She has to come herself,” Alex groaned, his voice completely stripped of warmth. I looked up at him through blurred eyes, my hand still pressed tightly against the sharp, stabbing cramps in my lower belly. For an entire week, I had begged him on my knees to take me to a clinic. I had cried until my throat felt dry, telling him something inside me felt terribly wrong, but he had snapped that I was just being dramatic, wasting his hard-earned money when I brought nothing to the table. “Please, Alex...” I rasped, my fingers clutching his coat sleeve. “Just let me rest. Just for today.” “Get up, Lavina. Drop the act,” he ordered, shoving my hand away like I was a piece of trash. “Stephanie needs winter gear and medical supplies to survive this freak storm, and the warehouse on the outskirts has the last shipment. You are coming to carry the heavy crates. Stop playing the victim.” Stephanie stood behind him, her delicate face twisted into a pitiful mask for Alex, but when he turned his back to grab his keys, her eyes met mine with a chilling, triumphant glint. I didn't know it was a trap. I thought that if I obeyed just one last time, if I proved my worth, Alex would finally take me to a doctor afterward. Instead, they drove me to an abandoned, windowless warehouse on the edge of the city. The moment the heavy metal doors slammed shut, the illusion vanished. They didn't want me to carry crates. They wanted me gone. Before I could even process what was happening, Alex forced me down onto a cold wooden chair, wrapping thick nylon ropes around my torso and wrists until they bit deep into my skin. Heavy duct tape was slapped hard over my mouth, suffocating my desperate screams into muffled sobs. Stephanie stepped closer, leaning in with a smile that sent ice straight through my veins. “You really thought he cared about you, Lavina? You're just a countryside stray. An eyesore.” Without warning, Stephanie raised her foot and kicked me hard in the center of my stomach. A blinding agony tore through my lower abdomen. I gasped against the tape, my body shaking as pain spread through me. Then I felt the warmth of blood running between my thighs. My eyes widened as I stared down at it, unable to believe what was happening. I struggled violently against the ropes, tears burning my cheeks as I tried to scream through the tape. My eyes found Alex, silently begging him to look at the blood, to see that something was terribly wrong, and to remember that I was his wife. Surely, he wouldn't leave me like this. Surely, he would help me. Alex didn't even flinch. He adjusted his scarf and walked toward the exit without giving me a second glance. “Stephanie needs all the care she can get, as well as the medicine. You can stay here and reflect on your selfishness.” I stared at him in disbelief, my tears falling faster as he walked away. Even after everything I had endured for him, he could still leave me to die without a second thought. They locked the heavy iron doors, leaving me in total darkness. For four excruciating days, I remained tied to that chair, bleeding and growing weaker as the temperature outside plummeted. The cold crept through the warehouse walls, biting into my exposed skin until my fingers turned black and numb. I could barely move, and each breath became harder than the last. My baby was gone, my body was broken, and the man I had loved had abandoned me to die. I waited for someone to come, even when I knew deep down that nobody was coming. “If I get a second chance in life, I swear I'll make sure you don't get away with this.” The last thing I saw before everything went dark was a large hoarding vault and bloodline awakening that flashed before my eyes. It was already too late. Then everything went blank. *** My eyes snapped open. A harsh, desperate breath tore from my throat as I sat bolt upright, my hands flying to my stomach. No blood. No ropes. No suffocating tape. I was sitting in my small, cramped room at the Hamilton villa, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains and warmth washing over my trembling skin. I lifted my hands, staring at my unblemished wrists, completely free of rope burns. My memory was intact. Every cruel word, every moment of betrayal, and every drop of blood I had lost before my death remained clear in my mind. I turned my head slowly toward the digital clock on my nightstand, the glowing numbers burning into my eyes. Sixty days before the global cataclysm. Sixty days before the world turned into a frozen, lawless graveyard. Sixty days before humanity began destroying itself for a single piece of dry bread and medicine. I let out a slow breath, the phantom chill of death still clinging to my bones as something stirred deep inside me. My royal bloodline, the dormant realm tethered directly to my soul, awakened in response to my return to life. An endless, time-frozen vault opened inside my mind, ready to hold everything I would need to survive the coming apocalypse. I was reborn. And this time, I would never beg, never bleed, and never suffer for monsters again. My phone on the nightstand lit up with a notification, the screen flashing a news alert from the Winslet family business account: [Winslet Group announces the formal betrothal contract: Stephanie Winslet to marry Damien Stone, heir to Stone Corporation, exactly seven days from today.] A cold, humorless smile touched my lips as I stared at the headline. In my past life, Stephanie had never wanted to marry the most feared Stone heir. Instead, she had clung to my Alex. This time, I would take them all by surprise. Seven days. The Stone family heir was a man rumored to be on his deathbed, a terrifying recluse who held the keys to unmatched military and industrial wealth. The Winslets were desperate to sacrifice Stephanie to save their failing empire, but Stephanie was terrified of marrying a dying man. They wanted a sacrifice? They were about to get one. I stood up, the pain of my past life settling into a cold, unshakable resolve. I had exactly seven days to steal Stephanie's place, marry the Stone heir, and use his family's resources to fill my soul vault before the world froze to death.The notification from my burner phone broke the silence inside the empty warehouse.I already knew what it was before I picked it up. The Winslet family's elite group chat was flooded with unread messages, one after another.It had started with a batch of high-resolution photos sent from an unknown number. The private investigator Alexander had hired to follow me had done his job. In the pictures, I stood alone beside towering pallets of supplies, surrounded by sacks of cheap flour and piles of canned beans.The chat quickly filled with cruel jokes, laughing emojis, and insulting memes."Good God, look at her," my aunt typed, followed by a string of laughing emojis. "Is she opening a shelter for stray dogs, or is she preparing to hibernate like a bear?""More like she's stocking a nuclear bunker because she got kicked out onto the street with nothing," one of my cousins replied. "What an embarrassment to the Winslet name. Imagine falling this far."My phone vibrated again. This time,
The industrial district on the western edge of the city was filled with wholesale warehouses. Diesel fumes mixed with dust as forklifts moved pallets of goods in and out of the loading bays.With the Stone family's Black Tier credit card in my pocket, I didn't waste any time.I stood inside one of the city's largest agricultural supply depots, watching hydraulic lifts lower stacks of 50-pound sacks of white rice, unbleached flour, and cooking oil. Nearby, wooden crates held thousands of cans of preserved beef, condensed milk, and dried beans.It was enough food to feed a small village for years.The warehouse manager approached with a clipboard tucked under his arm. A thick gold chain hung around his neck as he studied the enormous invoice. His eyes moved from the order to my simple clothes, and a mocking smile spread across his face."You're buying half my grain stock, miss." He gave a short laugh. "Cash upfront, no questions asked. I'm not turning down money, but what does a young
The restaurant was bathed in warm, golden chandelier light, smelling faintly of truffles, aged wine, and effortless luxury. It was the kind of upscale establishment where society elites gathered to flaunt their status, laughing over white-clothed tables while the city outside hummed with oblivious routine.Alexander sat near the center of the dining room, a crystal glass of red wine catching the light as he raised it toward Stephanie.He was celebrating.Celebrating his "freedom" from a marriage he viewed as a burden, celebrating the clean break from a woman he thought he had completely crushed. Stephanie sat across from him, draped in a designer silk dress that cost more than a month's groceries for an average family, her laughter ringing out clear and sharp to draw the attention of nearby tables."To new beginnings, Alex," Stephanie purred, her fingers brushing against his across the table. "And to finally clearing out the dead weight."Alexander smiled, leaning in to clink his glas
I checked my phone before stepping out into the financial district.My inbox was already flooded.Stephanie and Frederick had spent the night spreading rumors across every high-society group chat and socialite forum.The narrative was simple and filthy: I hadn't left Alexander. I had been thrown out for being a barren, mentally unstable, useless wife who had suffered a hysterical breakdown.Stephanie had even played the victim in a voice message, crying about how she tried to "save my marriage" before I turned crazy.In my past life, this smear campaign would have destroyed me. Now, it was just background noise.They could laugh all they wanted.The higher they built their false pedestals today, the harder they would hit the ice later.I stepped into Winslet Private Banking to collect my late mother's trust, two hundred thousand dollars held in my name.The moment I walked through the glass doors, the quiet chatter among the clerks died down.Eyeballs tracked me instantly.Eyes filled
I had just finished making scrambled eggs for myself for dinner in my newly rented space, a secluded, unpretentious apartment located miles away from the Hamilton villa, in a place where even Alex wouldn't be able to locate me.Standing alone in the quiet kitchen, holding a plate of warm food that I didn't have to share or seek approval for, a strange, quiet sensation washed over me. For three agonizing years, my evenings had been defined by walking on eggshells. I remembered how Alexander used to inspect the dining table with a cold, critical eye, complaining if the soup was a fraction too cool or if I looked too tired to entertain his snobbish friends. I remembered his mother's sharp, condescending remarks, reminding me daily that a "countryside stray" should be grateful just to sit at their table. They forgot how I had helped Alexander build his company when it was almost crumbling under so much debt, with no investors willing to help.None of that mattered anymore.The quiet in th
Alexander's POVThe house was calm and empty the moment I stepped inside with my mother and a few friends I had invited over for dinner.Lavina used to work as my secretary at the office, but for days she had stopped coming in, citing some ridiculous illness or clumsy excuse. I had tolerated her little acts of defiance because she was usually quiet and predictable, always waiting in the shadows to serve me the moment I walked through the door.I walked straight toward the dining area, anticipating the warm scent of cooked meals and the usual sight of her fussing over the table setting.Instead, the place felt cold and empty. The lights were off, and the kitchen was pitch-black and dead quiet. There was no soup simmering on the stove, no fresh bread, not even a glass of water laid out.My mother scoffed behind me, adjusting her designer coat with an annoyed sigh."Is this how your wife entertains guests, Alexander?" she sneered, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. "She







